


The Return of the High Functioning Sociopath

by MissLunacy



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 23:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLunacy/pseuds/MissLunacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He'd plunged into the depths of the city, leaving behind lies and unspoken truth. I'd found myself alone, again. The three years that had since passed were troublesome, but bearable." It's been three years without Sherlock for John. Something has changed and someone is returning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Return of the High Functioning Sociopath

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note; This is based on how Sherlock returns in the stories, mixed a little with what we think will happen in series 3 of BBC Sherlock. I will introduce Lestrade, Mycroft, Molly, possibly Irene, Moran and the rest in later chapters. Enjoy!

# Something old

He'd plunged into the depths of the city, leaving behind lies and unspoken truth. I'd found myself alone, again. The three years that had since passed were troublesome, but bearable.

Days of sorrow.

Weeks of anger.

Months of loneliness.

Years of acceptance.

I moved on. I soldiered on.

They all did, why shouldn't I?

Flatmates, colleagues, friends.

Whatever we had been was in the past, but as I was looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but to think back.

He should've been here.

Today and in the past, he should've been here.

“Sentiment, John.” I smiled to myself. Words of wisdom or bollocks? I shook my head, took a last glance at my reflection and headed towards the door, without him ...but still

smiling.

 

*

  
Three years on the day and I was returning. The sun was up, hardly any clouds to be spotted and a fresh breeze stroked my cheek as I walked up the gravelled path. Yet it had been

three years and I was allowed to be a little emotional. I took a glance towards the direction of his grave and stopped. The city had been his, and now the city's ground held his body.

It sort of fit, didn't it? In its own twisted way.

I turned towards the church and smiled. Last year, on the first anniversary of his funeral, I'd lit a candle inside before heading out to place some flowers. It had become a tradition

whenever I visited him, I never intended it, but there you are.

I was glad I no longer felt any remorse. Life was a bit empty, lacking one ignorant prick, but one hundred percent enjoyable.

“Oh, sorry.” I turned to the left to see whose path I was blocking.

“Watch your ruddy feet!” an old man grumbled as he pushed past me with his wheelbarrow. It was the gardener, even sunshine couldn't brighten his day among the dead.

“Right ...” I sighed and headed inside the church.

 

*

I found myself inside a small room, surprised by the small mirror in the far corner. I closed the door and walked over to it, giving myself some last minute adjustments. Harry

would've thought I looked too neat, old military habits and all.

There was a small knock on the wooden door and I turned around. “Yes?” The door opened and the old gardener stood before me; grey nest of a hair, dirt all over his trouser and

coat.

“Sorry to burst in on ya mate, I was a bi' rude earlier and you have a rough day ahead, mate, so I came to say sorry.”

“Oh, that's uh, that's fine. Really, no harm done.” I'd never heard him speak before, but his accent was rough, a voice that did match his appearance.

“Nah, but bad luck and all, I ain't one for wanting to make your day worse.”

“Really, it's fine.”

“I got some flowers for yer pocket, if you want 'em? Or that hat of yours over there?” He pointed behind me and I turned to look. I hadn't seen one when I entered the room, but

there was a black, regular top hat on the table next to the mirror. A handsome one, but not really my taste.

“It's fine, I'm not one for wearing ha-” I'd turned around, but the old man had transformed. There was a grey wig thrown on the floor, his brown coat and baggy trousers next to it.

No, the old gardener was long gone, instead Sherlock Holmes took his place.

“You..” It was all I could press forth before my body caved in and darkness surrounded me. One minute I was standing up, looking at a ghost, the next I was on the floor with a

ghost's heavy breathing in my ears.

“John? John, are you all right?”

“Sh- ...Sherlock?” I blinked, hardly believing my eyes.

“I'm sorry, John. Fainting was not a part of my calculations.”

“Not in your calc- Jesus, Sherlock! Three years. Three years! And you decide to come back like this?! You are the most dramatic prick I have ever met!”

“You're not pleased with my return?”

“What? Of course I am! But like that? And on my wedding day, Sherlock?! There are better ways to return from the dead than on my wedding day!!” I got up angrily, glaring at him.

“Really? Like what?”

“L-..Like? I don't know!” I grabbed his shirt, my whole body begging me to punch him.

“This is your wedding, John. Something old; me, something new; your soon to be wife, something borrowed; your suit, something blue; my uhm ...scarf.”He said, brushing some

dust from my shoulder. I could tell that he was nervous, that seeing me again was something he had been worried about.

“All of that is for the bride, Sherlock, nothing to do with the groom, do you know anything about weddings?” I snarled.

“I did some research.” he dared give a small smile.

“Of course you did ...Well do you know how stressful they are? Did you even think that coming back today would be the worst days of them all?” I let go of his shirt and took a deep

breath.

“It may have crossed my mind.”

“Jesus ..” I sighed.

“I am sorry, John. I will tell you everything about my past three years once you are strong enough.”

“I am strong enough.”

“You just fainted and you have a wedding today.”

“The wedding ...Mary, oh god.” I said as realisation hit me.

“Well, aren't you going to introduce me?”

“To whom?”

“Mary.”

“I'm not supposed to see her before we're at the altar.

“I'll go alone then.” He started for the door.

“The hell you are.” I grumbled and followed.

“Who's your best man?”

“Greg.”

“Lestrade?”

“Yes.”

“Why? I thought the natural choice would be me or Harry?”

“Don't flatter yourself. Harry, she's ...she's in rehab actually. Wouldn't be wise to leave for a wedding and she agreed. Greg was a great support when you ...after you ...” I couldn't

finish. My reality was turned around in a matter of seconds. I had hoped for this, dreamed about Sherlock coming back, but I'd accepted the fact that he wouldn't a few months after

he passed. It was hard to have him back so suddenly, as if no time had passed at all.

 “A reasonable decision then. I would step in for the day, but it is still not safe to go public about my return.”“Then why are you here?” He stopped and looked down on me.

"I have one final adventure concerning my return and I would like you to be a part of it, John.” 

“That's it? You come back from the grave-”

“Technically I was never in it-” he interrupted.

“-on my wedding day to ask me for help?”

“I will understand if you refuse the offer.”

“ ... I have to think about it.” I sighed. Any other day I would've said yes, but I knew the danger of a case with Sherlock and now, in an hour or so, I would have someone to miss me

if something went wrong. Sherlock continued moving, looking for Mary's room.

“Sherlock.” I said as he passed the door. I raised my hand and gave the door a gentle knock.

“John?” She'd opened the door, but closed it a little as soon as she saw it was me. “What are you doing here? You're not supposed to see me yet.”

“I know, but it's an emergency.” I said as Sherlock opened the door and strode right in, that prick.

“Who's thi-” she stopped, realising quickly who it was. “But that's..you're ... John, what's going on?”

“I assume you've told her about me, judging by her reaction.”

“Yes.”

“Let me suggest that you take a seat, Mary. John fainted previously and a woman's heart is known to be weaker than a man's- ” she slapped him. The shock on my face was quickly

replaced by a smug smile. Sherlock's jaw clenched; he had not seen it coming. He adjusted his shirt a little and tried to look untouched.

“John told me you died. John, you said he died. The whole world said he died. How can he be here?”

“A tale I would love to indulge on, but an introduction is in order,” Sherlock interrupted. “You are after all, marrying my friend in oh ... 21 minutes and 18 seconds.”

“I'm Mary Morstan, and if John's stories are true you know everything about me already.”

“John, I do think I approve, she's a lot quicker than your previous dates.”

“Approve? You've got nothing to approve, Sherlock!” I objected.

“Best of luck, Mary, I look forward to seeing more of you.” He smiled, a fake smile I knew all too well.

“John also told me you were honest, brutally honest sometimes, do I detect sarcasm, Mr. Holmes?”A genuine smile crossed Sherlock's lips. I was baffled.

“John, shouldn't you go to the altar?” he turned towards me.

“What? Oh, right.” I watched, bemused, as Sherlock left the room.

“John?” Mary grabbed my arm gently. “Are you okay? I mean ... he's back. On your wedding day. Isn't it a bit too much for you?”

“You know what? I'm actually not surprised. It's very ... Sherlock of him.”

“Do you still want to get married?”

“What? Of course I do, Mary, I did ask you months ago, didn't I?” I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She was beyond beautiful and today she would be mine until death did

us part.

“You did.” she smiled, all worry gone from her face.

“Do you..I mean, you still want to marry me, right?”

“Of course. I just thought that with Sherlock back, things might change.”

“They'll change. That I am certain of, but not between you and me.”

“Good.” she kissed my cheek. “But he's back .. That's great, isn't it?”

“Yeah, it is.” I smiled back. “I'll see you soon, Mrs Watson.”


End file.
